


Bad

by BloodEnvy



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: AU, All Human AU, F/M, Songfic, all human universe, and best man, ghost of the robot - Freeform, spike is xander's best friend, xander/anya wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 06:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15261396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: All Human AUSpike is Xander’s best man at his wedding, but he has never met the maid of honor. What’s he going to do when the meddling Xander and Willow try to set them up?





	1. First Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> The song this is based on is by James Marsters himself. Listen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUCkbWAXx28

“God, I’m still not used to this.” He mused, grinning. Leaning casually against the bar, he watched the fifty-odd people milling about, laughing and chatting. “Lil’ Xander all grown up and getting hitched.”  
  
Xander laughed, absentmindedly fiddling with his tie. “While ‘Lil’ Spike’ remains single. Man, how long have you been outta the game?”  
  
Spike shrugged, taking a mouthful of his beer. “Since Drusilla, I guess. Unless you wanna count those few nights with Harmony... and let’s not.” He grimaced at his friend before punching him playfully in the arm. “And let’s watch it with the ‘Lil Spike’ jibes, alright? You’ll bruise my ego.”  
  
“Okay, okay, wouldn’t want to damage your almighty ego.” Xander grinned at his best man. “Drusilla, huh? That was, like, what? Two... three years ago? And Harmony? That was scary bad-judgement there.”  
  
“You’re telling me. She didn’t stop talking, even in the middle of it.” Spike flicked his eyebrows and smirked into the mouth of his bottle, grinning at Xander’s expression which was stuck halfway between disgust and amusement. He shrugged. “Rebounds, whatcha gonna do?”  
  
“Xander! Congratulations!” Willow approached them from the other side of the room, separating herself from the groom’s family. “I still can’t believe it, you and Anya, getting married!” She hugged Xander tightly, grinning at Spike as she pulled away. “Hey, Spike.”  
  
“Hey, Red. Love the dress.” Spike tipped his bottle at her in appreciation before taking another drink.  
  
Willow was dressed in a strapless, mauve dress that came to her knees, with a thick black band around her waist, the bow trailing down at the back. She readjusted the top and grimaced half-heartedly, making Spike grin. He knew how uncomfortable she was in formalwear. Almost as much as he was, not that he was going to show it.  
  
“Not by choice. Anya decided playing dress up with the bridesmaids would be more fun if she could do it for the wedding and the rehearsal dinner.” Willow explained with a sigh. “Tara’s even more uncomfortable than I am.”  
  
She motioned across the room to where her girlfriend stood with her arms folded awkwardly across her chest, unused to the gauzy blue dress hugging her torso.  
  
“So they drag you across the lake for this?” Willow asked, turning wistfully back from Tara.  
  
“The pond, yeah,” Spike chuckled. “I guess Xander here has trouble making friends, ‘cause here I am, in all my best man glory.” He waved his hand, gesturing down at himself grandly, despite the fact that he was still leaning against the bar.  
  
“Hey!” Xander reprimanded. “I do have guy friends... lots of ‘em. Like Clem and... um...”  
  
“I noticed you managed to avoid a tie.” Willow said to Spike, rolling her eyes at Xander as he floundered for other names. She nodded at his throat, where the top two buttons of his deep blue shirt sat undone under his suit jacket, revealing a small section of his pale chest.  
  
“Not my style, love.” He shrugged. “Bad for the image, lookin’ all presentable. But hey, credit to me for even wearin’ a suit, right?”  
  
“Complete with shit-kicker boots, too. Gee, Spike, you really know how to dress for the occasion.” Xander rolled his eyes, giving up on the name-game. “I thought you’d gotten roped into Anya’s dress-up fun, too?”  
  
“To be fair, the woman picked out the suit. And a tie, which I refuse to wear. But she neglected to pick out shoes. So, I went with the best pair I own.” Spike looked away, taking the last mouthful of his beer while motioning to the barkeeper behind him for another one.  
  
“The only pair you own, you mean.” Willow taunted, signalling for her own refill. Taking the glass of red wine from the counter, she sipped it thoughtfully. “Which means, assuming that the fact that his tie matches his shirt means that Xander wasn’t allowed to dress himself—“  
  
“Hey!” Xander interrupted indignantly.  
  
“--That Buffy was the only one in the wedding’s inner circle allowed to dress themselves tonight, besides the bride.” She summarised begrudgingly.  
  
“Who?” Spike looked questioningly up from his surveying of the room, focusing on Willow again.  
  
“What who? Anya?”  
  
“No, you silly bint,” Spike laughed. “Who the bloody hell is Buffy?”  
  
“Oh, right.” Willow frowned. “Buffy Summers. She’s a friend from University. I met her in Psych class, and she ended up part of the gang. So Anya asked her to be a bridesmaid tomorrow too... You haven’t met her?”  
  
“Nope,” Spike’s brow furrowed over his beer. “Guess I was already living back in England by the time you lot were getting all chummy...What?”  
  
Xander and Willow exchanged a look after his confirmation, both of them grinning. When they both shook their heads in dismissal of his question, he rolled his eyes before turning to scan the crowd for any more familiar faces.  
  
Clem and Tara were chatting happily over by the buffet, and Spike smirked at Tara’s still firmly crossed arms. He caught a glimpse of Wesley standing in the middle of the room, talking cheerily with Giles, who had his arm casually around the waist of Jenny. Catching sight of a bright pink dress weaving through the guests, he straightened automatically.  
  
Following suit when he saw who was approaching, Xander managed to slop beer on himself as he grabbed Willow’s arm to turn her to face the newcomer.  
  
“Xander!” A camera flashed, blinding the three by the bar. Anya marched up, camera in hand.  
  
“Hey, honey.” Xander leaned down to plant a kiss on his fiancé’s lips. “Having fun?”  
  
“Xander, where have you been?” Anya kissed him again, more enthusiastically this time. “We have to mingle!” The camera flashed again, capturing their kiss. Anya had held the camera to the sides of their faces.  
  
“I am mingling sweetie, look.” He gestured to Spike and Willow, discreetly putting his beer bottle on the counter behind him. “I was just talking to these two.”  
  
“Oh, that doesn’t count!” Anya scolded lightly, “Hi, William... where’s your tie?”  
  
“In my room at the hotel, I’d expect.” Spike replied nonchalantly, rolling his eyes at his name. She always insisted on being formal with him at events like this. Willow grinned behind Anya’s back. As Anya opened her mouth to argue, Willow pushed her way into the conversation, winking at Xander.  
  
“You know Anya, Spike here hasn’t met Buffy yet.”  
  
Camera flash.  
  
“You haven’t met the maid of honour?” Anya looked scandalised. “The best man hasn’t met the maid of honour?”  
  
“It’s alright, Anh, I think she just got here.” Xander smiled at Anya’s panic. “Why not introduce them now, you can get a photo and everything.” He pointed through the crowd towards the door.  
  
“I’ll get her!” Willow volunteered, eyeing the camera apprehensively. Anya had a habit of capturing the worst moments when she had a camera in hand. The redhead disappeared into the crowd, and Spike ignored the couple beside him, drinking and watching the other guests, flinching every time the camera flashed in his direction.  
  
He had been single way too long. Sure, he’d had the casual fling and a few one-night stands with Harmony and a few other painfully dumb women he’d met in both England and here in SunnyD... but it still kind of hurt to see other couples so loving with each other. Or just so... natural with each other.  
  
He returned a wave to Clem who was waving at him from the buffet, and grinned at a group of girls as they turned his way. No harm in flirting, he shrugged internally. He recognised a few of the girls, Rona, Fred... but most of them were new to him. The gang really had made new friends while he was gone. One of the girls smiled at him suggestively, but he just winked and looked away. Faith wasn’t really his type.  
  
Anya snapped him out of his musing with another flash of the camera, this time capturing the two women approaching them. Willow’s hand went up to protect her eyes from the flash, too late, and she grinned at Spike.  
  
Why was everything they were doing making him nervous?  
  
“William, this is Buffy.”


	2. First Impressions

“William, this is Buffy.” Anya declared, glaring at him until he straightened out of the slouching position against the bar. “Buffy, this is William. Or, well, his friends call him Spike.” She shrugged as an afterthought, mostly because of the warning nudge to the ribs Xander gave her.  
  
“Spike?” The girl asked, and stepped out from behind Willow. Spike actually did a double take. She was gorgeous. Blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders loosely to hang between her shoulder blades, and she was wrapped in a red silk dress that cut off halfway down her thighs, and accentuated her cleavage in a halter top. She was toned, tan and beautiful. She gave him a small, quizzical smile, and offered a hand. “Weird nickname. So, you’re the best man?”  
  
Spike shrugged, taking her hand in his. “Sort of stuck, I guess, pet. And yeah, that’s why ‘m here.” He grinned.  
  
God... and he was British. Buffy let her eyes move down his body. There was no doubt about it, he was a hottie. Even under the loose fitting suit she could tell he was fit. And the small section of his chest exposed at the top of his shirt suggested strong pecs and probably amazing abs. Biting her lip, she appraised his face. Usually, bleached hair was a turnoff, but on him, it looked... sexy. And those eyes... and those cheekbones.... gah. She shook herself mentally. Stop drooling on the guys shoes and talk, damn it!  
  
Buffy smiled at him and then at Xander. “So you actually have male friends, Xand? I’m surprised.”  
  
Xander immediately restarted the argument he’d had before, and the rest of the group laughed at him, all except Anya, who looked offended for her fiancé’s pride. She opened her mouth, but Buffy cut her off, giggling.  
  
“It’s okay, Anya. Will filled me in.” She assured her, her eyes flicking back to Spike. “He moved back home to London a few years back, which is why I haven’t met him before. And I do know Clem and Wesley and Giles. I know Xander has guy friends.”  
  
Anya’s mouth snapped shut, and she glared at Willow, as if she’d spoiled her fun. Willow just rolled her eyes at her and sipped at her wine. “It’s weird you guys haven’t met before, I mean, Spike you’ve been back a few times, visiting after gigs.”  
  
AND he’s a musician?! Oh God, jackpot! Again, Buffy slapped herself mentally. She barely knew the guy.  
  
“Only twice, and it wasn’t like I was stopping over for a week, I was in ‘n out of Sunnydale in a day or two.” Spike shrugged; despite the slight blush he could feel building. She always mentioned the band, like it was some big deal. They were barely known outside England and California; just where he’d been able to promote them. They weren’t even that good.  
  
“You’re in a band?” Buffy asked, pleased that she was able to sound both politely interested and nonchalant.  
  
“Nothing big, love.” He shrugged, watching her mouth as she spoke. God, she had a nice mouth. A full bottom lip and a natural pout, they were... biteable. “We’re kind of crap.” He laughed.  
  
Xander scoffed at him, and threw his arm around his best man’s shoulders. “He’s being modest, Buff. They’ve played at the Bronze a few times.”  
  
Spike gave Xander a confused look about the sudden physical camaraderie, and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause it’s hard to get a gig there.”  
  
Buffy giggled, and Spike couldn’t help light up a little. It wasn’t hard for him to talk to women, quite the opposite, but he couldn’t help be pleased that she found him funny. Xander just waved him off dismissively, before continuing as if there hadn’t been any interruption.  
  
“Spike here heads the band. Lead vocals and electric guitar.” He told her proudly, grinning. “He’s actually gonna do something for us at the reception.”  
  
“Oh, is the rest of your band here, too?” Buffy asked, scoping the room. Besides some of the people she knew were the bride and groom’s distant relatives, there wasn’t anybody she didn’t recognise. After hanging out with the gang constantly for the last three years, she’d met pretty much everybody the others knew.  
  
“Nah, they’re back in London. ‘Fraid I’m stuck doing a solo performance.” He grimaced good-naturedly at her. He ignored the third camera flash to go off in the last two minutes, other than giving Anya a small frown. “Should be interesting.” He smirked bitterly.  
  
“I bet.” Buffy replied softly. She smiled warmly at him again. No harm in flirting. Besides, it had been a long time since... since the last time she’d flirted with anyone.  
  
“So, can I get a photo or not?!” Anya demanded, glaring at Spike and Buffy, at the same time catching one of Giles and Jenny, who were walking past. She held up the camera pointedly.  
  
Spike sighed. “What d’you reckon, Goldilocks? Let her have one shot? Despite the fact she’s been snapping away at us for the last ten minutes, thinkin’ we haven’t noticed?”  
  
Buffy laughed, and after sticking her tongue out at Anya, sidled up next to him obediently. She nodded as he motioned awkwardly in question, and he placed an arm around her shoulders gently. She put her arm around his waist and grinned at the camera, flashing her teeth.  
  
Spike could feel his face flushing as the camera flashed. Damn it, you prat, it’s just a photo. Stop blushing like a bloody git and smile. Anya caught a few extra shots and nodded, satisfied. It was over. Spike, somewhat unwillingly, withdrew his arm from the girl next to him, and felt her do the same with the arm around his waist.  
  
Smiling at her again, he picked up his beer again and took a mouthful, mostly for something to do. He watched Buffy and Willow fall in next to each other as almost second nature, and it was obvious the two had become close. They let Anya snap a few photos of them together, Willow somewhat unwillingly, before Buffy checked the crowd over her shoulder.  
  
“Will, I haven’t spoken to Fred yet, or Wesley for that matter. And I haven’t had a chance to congratulate Jenny on the soon-to-be baby. Wanna come walk?”  
  
Recognising the lifeline, Willow threw her a grateful smile. “Sure thing, Tara looks like she’s feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. Let’s go save her.” She pointed out Tara, hiding by the punch bowl, and waved at the others. “Bye guys, I’ll talk to you later!”  
  
“Yeah. Again, congrats Xander, Anya,” Buffy glanced at Spike before turning. “See you ‘round Spike.”  
  
It was silent for a long moment, and then...  
  
“What the bloody hell was that all about?” Spike almost yelled, turning to the couple next to him.  
  
Anya took one look at his expression and for the first time in memory, decided to let someone else explain. “I want to get photos of Robin and Faith together... I’ll see you later.”  
  
“They’ve... Honey! They’ve broken... up.” Xander popped the ‘p’ on the last word, realising that his fiancé had already fled. He turned back to Spike and chuckled nervously. “About three boyfriends and two flings ago. Faith really knows how to go through men. I should know, huh?”  
  
Spike merely cocked a scarred eyebrow at him, reaching for his third beer.  
  
Xander sighed. “What’s wrong?” he asked, despite the fact that he knew very well what was wrong with the blonde glowering at him.  
  
“What the hell was that all about?” he gestured to the spot where Willow had disappeared. “You and Red, swapping looks and flauntin’ me like a bloody piece of meat.”  
  
Xander winced. “You noticed that, huh?”  
  
“Not bloody hard to miss, you prat.” Spike clapped him up the side of the head, shaking his head when Xander actually managed to look insulted. “What the hell were you two doing?”  
  
Xander sighed again, taking a long draught of his beer before answering. “Well, you said it yourself, you’ve been out of the dating game for three years, and Will has been... Well, she’s been worrying about you. She thinks you’ve been overcompensating for a love life with the amount of work you’ve been doing lately.”  
  
Spike grimaced. He was actually working in interior decorating at the moment, fixing up old houses and selling them for more money than what he paid for them. A lot more, actually. He and Xander had worked together in construction for a while. He usually took a lot of time fixing up the houses, but he’d managed to finish and sell two houses in the last six months. He had been working a lot.  
  
“And Buffy’s slightly-less-than-fresh out of a break up too... You remember Liam Angelus?” He took Spike’s glower as a confirmation. Angelus had been the one to steal Drusilla. “She’d been with him for about eight months. Broke up two months ago.”  
  
“Now there’s a sign of good taste,” Spike muttered into the top of his beer, before snapping around to stare at Xander. “Wait, so you and Red thought you’d set us up?”  
  
“Pretty much,” Xander frowned and shrugged. “We thought you might like each other is all.”  
  
“Uh-huh.” Spike grumbled. Xander mumbled something about ‘mingling properly’ before sidling away, preferring to have Willow be the first to feel the wrath of Spike. They both knew he hated being set up with women. He thought it was crass. Xander had told Willow as much when she’d suggested it. But they’d done it anyway.  
  
Spike leaned back against the bar, nodding at familiar faces as they noticed him. He couldn’t be too mad with Xander... yet. He did kind of like the girl. Funny thing, last girl he really liked dumped him for this new girl’s ex. Still... she was hot.  
  
Downing more of his beer, he shoved a hand in his pocket. Removing it, he found a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. Brow furrowed, he unfolded it.  
A cell phone number.  
  
Little minx.


	3. Best Man's Prerogative

“Buffy. Yeah... Yeah, it’s Spike. I was wondering... Damn it!” Spike kicked the end of the bed. The phone was still in its cradle, and the girl’s number was clenched in his hand. Why was this so bloody hard?  
  
Just call her, you stupid git. Worst thing, she laughs and hangs up. You’ll never see her again anyway. Not after the bloody wedding and reception.  
  
He inhaled and blew the air out in a huff. Clicking his fingers out of nerves, he paced in front of the nightstand a few times before picking up the phone. Taking a deep breath, he dialled her number, and held it while he waited for her to answer.  
  
She picked up on the forth ring. “Hello?”  
  
“Buffy?”  
  
“Spike?”  
  
Spike exhaled in a shaky laugh. “Yeah, love. How’d you know it was me?”  
  
“Well, you are the only guy I know with a British accent.” She giggled. “What’s up?”  
  
What’s up? What the bloody hell had he called her for? “I thought you might want to get together, get to know each other. You know, best man’s prerogative and all.” God, he sounded like a prat.  
  
Buffy laughed on the other end of the line. “Sure, sounds good to me. What’s your room number?” All the wedding party were staying in the same hotel.  
  
“Uh, two-thirty-seven. You...” He squeezed his eyes shut before staring at the ceiling. “You don’t want to meet downstairs, go to the bar or something?”  
  
“Nah, it’s cool. I’m not much for crowds these days.” Her voice was light, cheery. Maybe she hadn’t realised he was a loser yet.  
  
“Me either.” He admitted.  
  
“Well, that works out nicely then, doesn’t it?” Buffy replied, “I’ll there in ten.”  
  
She hung up.  
  
Spike put the receiver back on the cradle, staring at it. Good God, what had he done?  
  
On the other end, Buffy gave Willow a thumbs-up and a grin before turning to the wardrobe to find something to wear.

* * * * * * *

A light knock on the door caused Spike to almost leap off the bed. Shaking himself, he walked slowly to the door. Gripping the handle tighter than necessary, he took a steadying breath. A few more calming seconds, and he turned the knob and pulled the door open wide.  
  
Buffy stood in the hallway, and Spike let his eyes run over her body appreciatively. She was wearing a pair of tight, faded denim jeans, a white singlet and a long, blue knit cardigan that fell to her knees. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail, emphasizing the light curl of her hair. He noticed also that she was wearing a pair of silver-grey heels that matched the tiny crucifix hanging around her neck.  
  
Heels, to hang out in a hotel room?  
  
That probably meant one of two things. Either she was really high maintenance... or she was trying to look sexy. Not that she needed much help in that department. Maybe it was a little of both.  
  
Stepping back, he held out his arm grandly to usher her inside. She gave him a small smile, and he watched as she sashayed across the carpet before settling on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her. Shutting the door, he followed her, folding himself onto the couch next to her.  
  
Buffy found herself watching Spike as he approached her from across the room. He moved... like he was on the prowl. Predatory. There was no other word for it. He stalked across the room, and good god did his clothes fit him well.  
  
He had obviously changed into something he preferred, clad in black denim jeans and a black tee shirt, and the same hard core biker boots he’d been wearing at the rehearsal dinner. Admiring his hips and stomach, Buffy briefly recalled the conversation she’d had with Willow as they had made their way over to Giles and Jenny...  
  
“I know you mean well, but I don’t know if this master plan of yours is such a good idea, Will. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he is a honey, but—“  
  
“You think he’s hot now, wait ‘til you see him in his comfort zone.”  
  
“His comfort zone?” Buffy briefly forgot her argument, shooting Willow an incredulous look as she slipped around Jonathan. “He looked pretty dang comfortable to me.”  
  
“Yeah, he makes it seem that way being all cool and casual like that, but he was more uncomfortable that I was.” Willow grinned impishly, managing not to bump into the gaggle of girls in front of her, despite the fact that her eyes were on Buffy. “And meeting you while in formal wear? He was definitely dying on the inside.”  
  
Buffy blushed at Willow’s suggestion, but continued her side of the conversation. “So formal wear not a comfort thing, then?”  
  
“Nah, not even close. Black denim and a long leather jacket, along with those ridiculous boots he was wearing.” Willow listed, before patting her friend on the shoulder. “I promise droolage.”  
  
“Willow!” Buffy scolded, laughing. “I thought you were gay?”  
  
“Oh, I am. But you’d have to be blind not to notice. Very yummy,” she promised her, waving to Tara, motioning for her to join them as they called out to get the Giles’ attention.  
  
Very yummy indeed. Buffy kind of wished she’d taken Willow seriously. She wasn’t really sure if that meant dressing up more or not even accepting his invitation to get to know each other, but damn, she didn’t realise that Willow really had meant it when she said she’d noticed.  
  
Tearing her eyes away from his body, she smiled at him as he sat next to her. He even managed to look graceful even when folded up on a couch despite his height and lean build.  
  
“So, you’ve... uh, known the Scoobies long?” Buffy inwardly punched herself. Could she have opened the conversation on a lamer note?  
  
Spike rolled his eyes inwardly at the nickname Xander had come up with for the group. A small Scooby-Doo obsession had caused a title that he didn’t think was ever going to go away.  
  
“I met Xander through work. And Tara her first year of college,” Spike shrugged, “met the gang through them.”  
  
“Wait, so you’re in construction, a band and you’re a student?” Buffy looked shocked. “God, what do you do with all that free time between seven and seven-oh-five in the morning?”  
  
Spike laughed, shaking his head. She could swear he looked embarrassed. Really embarrassed. “I’m in restoration now, love, not construction. And I’m uh, not a student. I was a... assistant in one of her art classes when I was low on cash.”  
  
“So you’re an artist too?” God, was there anything the guy couldn’t do? Angel... Liam had been a quarterback on a football scholarship at Sunnydale University, cruising on classes that he didn’t need. And here was Spike, only a couple of years older than her and looking like some sort of punk-rock cliché, and he seemed to have all sorts of talent. And outside of some macho sporting contest.  
  
Spike actually blushed, “Nope. Not an artist.”  
  
Buffy stared at him, puzzled. When he gave her a pointed, sidelong glance, she let out an “oh!” of realization. Then it was her turn to blush. “It wouldn’t happen to have been her Life-Arts class, would it?”  
  
“That it would, pet,” Spike admitted, smirking at her expression. She looked terrified, but at the same time, intrigued. Leaving her to contemplate the idea, he stood and strode to the other side of the room, to the complementary bar fridge in the corner. Pulling out champagne and something he hoped was edible, he shrugged and picked up two glasses.  
  
Buffy stared wide-eyed at the spot the man had just vacated. Life Arts. He was a freakin’ nude model! No wonder Tara had looked so pleased when Willow had filled her in on her plan. She knew what Buffy was getting into when Willow had explained the “ideal results”.  
  
Buffy shook her head in private amusement. Wasn’t anybody gay anymore?  
  
She shifted on the couch, draping her arm over the back and resting her chin on her arm. Her eyes found Spike as he bent to search through the fridge. Or rather, they found his butt. The jeans fit him much better and tighter than the dress pants had, and she was thanking the Lord for that. ‘Nice’ was an understatement. He had an amazing ass. Perfectly round and tight, it was almost making her drool.  
  
She groaned slightly as he straightened up, muffling it quickly with her hand. Smiling as he turned back to her, she couldn’t help but blush. The smirk on his face suggested that he knew that she’d been staring, but how the hell would he know that?  
  
Spike sat down next to her again, settling in slightly closer than before. Setting the glasses and bottle on the table, he fingered the food packet suspiciously. “How ‘bout you, pet? Red said you met in psych?”  
  
Buffy sat up straighter, subtly angling her body so that her chest and face were leaning towards him. “Yeah, I went to high school in L.A. but got accepted here in Sunnydale. First psych class, I walked in late and got blasted by the professor. By the time I was allowed to go find a seat, everyone was looking at me like I had a disease or something. Will was the only one smiling at me after that.” Buffy laughed, embarrassed. God, she was babbling.  
  
To make it worse, Spike seemed completely at ease, his nonchalance the complete opposite of her jumbled mind. Spike unwrapped the package in his hands, grimacing at the food inside. Caviar. Not his taste at all. Setting it on the table, he picked up the bottle and shook it gently from side to side, offering it to her.  
  
Buffy took one look at the bottle in his hand and the fish eggs on the table and wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. “No thanks,” she glanced back at the fridge, before cocking a playful eyebrow at him. “You got any beer?”  
  
Spike grinned. God, this was his kind of girl.  
  
“Yeah, pet, I think I do.” He assured her, standing and returning to the fridge. Grabbing two bottles from the inside of the door, he nodded and threw her one. She caught it deftly and twisted off the top in one easy movement, taking a mouthful. Spike followed suit, chugging down a few gulps before sitting next to her.  
  
“Impressive moves there, love.” He tipped the bottle at her before setting it on the table. He slumped comfortably back in the chair, his hands in his lap.  
  
Buffy took another mouthful and eyed him again. There was no denying it, he was definitely a hottie. And single. And he was incredible. He was a musician, an interior decorator and a model. He was friends with her friends, and he had the same sense of humour. Willow was right. It had been a long time since Ang... since Liam. She needed some fun.  
  
Setting her beer on the table, she threw him a dazzling, mischievous grin.  
  
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”


	4. Boundaries

Buffy shifted in her seat quickly, turning so she was facing him. She swung a leg over his lap and lowered her mouth to his neck, planting a kiss on the curve of his collarbone, her hands resting on his chest.  
  
Spike’s hands were hovering a few inches from the hips of the blonde on his lap. What was she... his eyes widened as she squeezed his chest lightly. A groan slipped through his lips as she sucked on his pulse point, and his eyes closed as his head fell back against the back of the couch.  
  
Buffy moved her mouth up his neck towards his ear, lathing her tongue along the skin there. She smiled against his flesh as she felt his hands grip her arms, but was shocked as he pushed her away, holding her at arm’s length.  
  
Spike met the girl’s eyes, his brow furrowed. Buffy could see confusion on his face, but his eyes burned with desire and lust. And if that wasn’t enough to let her know he was interested, there was his... interest pressing against the inside of her thigh. Oh yeah, he wanted her.  
  
“Buffy... love, how much have you had to drink?” Spike asked softly, cocking a scarred eyebrow at her. He did that so much better than she did.  
  
Buffy twisted to look back at the table, brushing the few loose strands of her hair behind her ear. Turning back to him, she looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, “About a third of a half of that beer.”  
  
He glanced at it over her shoulder and met her eyes again. She had such beautiful eyes. “So you’re completely sober right now?”  
  
“Yep,” Buffy nodded once for emphasis. She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout for good measure. “Completely.”  
  
Spike shrugged, “Alright then.” He gripped her arms tighter and threw her down on the couch, sliding his body over hers. Watching her giggle for a few short seconds, he swooped down to press his lips against hers.  
  
Buffy arched up against the hard body of the man pressed against her, eliciting a moan. As she did, her lips parted and she immediately felt Spike’s tongue trace the outline of her bottom lip. Her tongue met his, and she pushed it into his mouth eagerly. Her hands slid up over his chest and shoulders to wrap around his neck, one hand tangling into the hair on the nape of his neck.  
  
“Sp...Spike.” She whispered against his mouth and cheek. “Oh... God.”  
  
Spike moved his mouth along her cheek, pressing kisses and nips against the underside of her jaw. When his tongue lathed the sensitive spot behind her ear and his teeth ground against her earlobe he felt her shiver against him. His body responded immediately.  
  
Buffy felt a hard length press against her thigh, and she giggled as Spike lowered his kisses to her collarbone, sliding the cardigan off her shoulder. “Slow down there, Billy. What are you doing?”  
  
Spike looked up from his ministrations, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean, what am I—?” He broke off, shaking his head slightly in confusion.  
  
“What are you...” Buffy gestured down at their bodies, down to where their hips were pressed together.  
  
He pulled away, propping himself on his straightened arms. “You... you don’t...” Spike’s head drooped until his forehead touched her shoulder and he pushed himself back up and away from her, turning his back. He dragged a hand over his face, making a fist at his chin. Oh god, he’d blown it. He’d bloody screwed up.  
  
A pair of arms draped themselves over his shoulders and he felt her body press against his back. She was standing on tip toe to rest her chin on his shoulder. Reaching a hand around, she touched his cheek and pulled his head around, turning his whole body to face her.  
  
“Hey, don’t get like that. I mean, that pout is sexy and all, but don’t.” She ducked her head, meeting his eyes. “I didn’t mean that.”  
  
“Then what did you mean?” Spike asked, shrugging.  
  
“I meant,” Buffy sighed. “We needed to slow down. I mean... we just met and as much as I want to, do you even have any protection?”  
  
Spike sighed and shook his head. He offered her a small, relieved smile. “No pet, I don’t.” There was a small beat of silence before he smirked and took her hand, leading her to the edge of the bed. He sat down and pulled her down next to him, kissing her neck softly. “Alright love, we’ll be having none of that.” He kissed her mouth. “That’s fine.”  
  
Buffy closed her eyes and let out a sigh as Spike’s cool lips touched her neck, softly once and then harder, the pressure against her pulse point. Removing her hand from her own lap, she let it drift to his thigh, running her fingertips lightly over his denim covered knee. She felt Spike sigh against her neck, his warm breath tickling her skin. She shivered.  
  
God, that felt so good. Buffy ran her hand up Spike’s thigh, trailing her fingertips lightly up his leg. She felt his groan vibrate against her skin, and she rolled her eyes playfully, mentally shrugging. What the hell?  
  
Buffy twisted suddenly, straddling Spike’s hips for the second time; she pressed a kiss to his collarbone, biting softly at his skin. She flashed him a coquettish smile briefly before she ducked her head to kiss him, slipping her tongue into his mouth. Her hands trailed down his chest and took hold of the bottom of his shirt, balling the edges in her fists.  
  
Spike felt the back of Buffy’s hands brush lightly against his stomach, and he instinctively moved his hands down to cover hers, breaking away from her lips only to pull his shirt over his head.  
  
Buffy dropped Spike’s tee shirt to the floor, and immediately froze, her eyes on his chest.  
  
This man was a freakin’ god. Smooth alabaster skin that was sexy despite how pale it was. His pectorals were well developed... and whoa. His stomach was covered in hard bumps, and she let her hands tentatively out to run down his abs.  
  
“I can see why you got into modelling,” Buffy smiled, before ducking down and running her tongue over his nipple.  
  
Spike groaned.  
  
“So, we can’t really be doing this.” Buffy muttered, pressing ardent kisses down the middle of his chest and around the bottom of one muscle.  
  
“No...” Spike’s eyes rolled back in his head as she found a sensitive point, and he closed them, fighting the urge to fist his hands in her sweet-smelling hair.  
  
“I mean, we did just meet,” Buffy sucked on the skin over his ribs, running her fingertips over his stomach.  
  
“Yeah...” Spike agreed blindly, nodding dumbly as a groan rumbled in his chest, and his hands found her hips. He squeezed them tightly.  
  
“And you don’t have any protection...” Buffy’s fingers ran over the bumps of Spike’s abs, the slight whisper of her fingernails causing him to hiss with pleasure.  
  
“No...” Her hands found his belt buckle, lightly tracing the silver metal before dipping down and brushing over his denim-clad erection. Spike growled, his lips parted slightly in silent, torturous arousal.  
  
Buffy grinned indulgently at the obvious effect she was having on the man in front of her. She felt such a raw, feminine power coming from the fact that she could do this to such a beautiful, talented man. Giving his erection a light squeeze, she smiled at him coquettishly. He was watching her with lidded eyes, and smirked at her as she licked her lips.  
  
With a playful shrug, she gripped the edges of her singlet and pulled it up over her head. Dropping it to the floor, she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips, lightly but lingering.  
  
“I don’t see why we can’t have a little fun, though.”


	5. A Little Fun

“I don’t see why we can’t have a little fun though.”  
  
Buffy attacked Spike’s mouth with her own, pushing her tongue into his mouth as her fingers fumbled with his belt buckle. Spike’s own hands slid up her body, one pulling her ponytail free and tangling in her hair. The other found the clip of her bra.  
  
He paused, unsure of how far he was allowed to go before she kicked him in the head and stormed out. She was so different from anyone else, so spectacular. She was something else. And as he realised that, Spike realised with a shock that he was falling utterly and completely for a woman he had just met.  
  
Buffy noticed Spike’s hesitation and slowly ran her tongue over the shell of his ear, giggling slightly as he shivered against her. Letting her warm breath tickle the now wet flesh, she whispered in his ear, “Second base?”  
  
Spike half-smirked, cocking an eyebrow at her playfully, before capturing her mouth again. “Second base.” With that, he turned them over, pinning her body under his on the bed and smashed his lips to hers. He kissed her cheek softly before laying a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses along her jaw line and up toward the sensitive skin behind her ear.  
  
His fingers travelled down her waist, tickling at her ribs and dipping into her navel as they found the top of her jeans. Buffy’s eyes widened as his fingers traced the edge of the denim for a moment before dipping down to cup her mound, hot even through her jeans.  
  
“Mmmm... Are you wet for me, kitten?” Spike asked tapping one finger on her sex, making her gasp.  
  
Kitten. Definitely the hottest pet name he’d called her yet. Buffy arched up against his touch, but he moved his hand with her, keeping it light. She moaned as he teasingly ran his cool tongue over her collarbone and bit down on the strap of her bra. “Yes... God, yes.”  
  
“Been promoted already, have I?” Spike chuckled, slowly unzipping her pants, revealing a pair of baby pink lace panties. “Now these are sweet little knickers, love. Wear these for me, did you?”  
  
Buffy could only nod, biting down on her lip. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down for a kiss, letting their tongues battle together. Feeling his fingers trace the edge of her bra again, she smiled against his mouth and pushed, rolling them over until she was straddling him.  
  
Spike was a little shocked over how strong the little minx was, moving them both with barely an effort. He decided right then, as she ground her teeth over his earlobe, that he loved it. He gripped her hips tightly, groaning as she rubbed herself teasingly against his crotch. She sat back, reached around and unclasped her bra, her hair falling sensuously over her shoulders.  
  
She held it coyly over her chest for a moment before letting it drop, and Spike’s hands immediately slid up her sides to cup them. He felt her nipples pebble against his palms, and groaned again.  
  
Buffy wriggled almost awkwardly out of her jeans and reached down to pull off her heels. Spike caught her arm.  
  
“Leave them on.” His voice was husky and low, and his eyes were half closed. The lust on his face was obvious.  
  
Buffy opened her mouth to tease him, but he used his grip on her arm to pull her down for a kiss, his hand moving to the back of her head to tangle in her hair and hold her there.  
  
Tease later. Kiss now.  
  
Buffy moved her mouth down over his chin and along his throat, tickling his flesh with her tongue as she made her way down his chest. Spike couldn’t believe what was happening. It had been so long since a woman... a real... not Harmony woman had been with him in this way and she was so... utterly incredible. She was smart, funny, beautiful, and she liked him! She was so different from Drusilla. Bright and colourful, and she wasn’t insane, which was a definite plus. She was like poetry in motion, and he...  
  
Spike’s eyes widened.  
  
And he... loved her?  
  
Buffy had found her way down to his crotch, and playfully bit down lightly on his bulge through his jeans. Spike growled, and in two swift movements pulled back up his body, and turned her whole body around so that she was sitting on his face.  
  
“A little eager, are we?” Buffy gasped, surprised by his sudden movement. Spike merely chuckled in response, causing the blonde above him to moan as it sent vibrations directly into her core. “What... what exactly are... are you doing?”  
  
“Second base,” he reminded her before reaching up, pulling her panties to the side and pushing his tongue into her folds.  
  
“OH!” Buffy gasped as his tongue invaded her body, pressing against her folds, dipping once into her centre before sliding up to curl around her clit. She gripped his hips, leaning forward, slowly moving her hips back and forth; humping his face slowly. Spike chuckled again, and she fell forward. Pressing open mouthed kisses along the hard planes of his stomach, she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, before pulling out his erection.  
  
“Second base is... obviously different in England...” Buffy panted.  
  
Spike chuckled. “Would you prefer the American way?” When Buffy didn’t answer, he gave her clit a long, hard lick.  
  
“Guess... oh! Guess I know where your nickname comes from, Spike.” She grinned and pressed a kiss to the base of his cock, shuddering as he growled beneath her.  
  
“Not quite, love.” He muttered into her, causing her to moan as he flicked his tongue over her clit. “But I’m flattered all the same.”  
  
Buffy giggled before dragging her tongue up the length of his shaft and kissed the now weeping tip. Spike groaned beneath her. Swirling her tongue over the head briefly, she blew lightly over it before sliding her lips over his cock and taking it into her mouth.  
  
Spike cried out as he felt her take him into her warm, wet mouth. It was incredible. The most amazing thing he’d ever felt, incomparable to anything he’d ever felt with any other woman... the nameless, drunken hook-ups, Harmony... even Drusilla. Feeling her lightly run her teeth over his shaft, he gripped her hip with one hand tighter, plunging his tongue back into her as his other hand reached down to tweak her nipple.  
  
Buffy was already so close. This man was unbelievable. Compared to him, the other sexual experiences she’d had, which admittedly, were few and far between, were just blind pawing and unintelligent groping. This man was a god. A body like Adonis and a tongue like a demon, he was finding and pressing all the right buttons like he’d known her body intimately for years. Grinding harder against his mouth, she moaned loudly.  
  
She took him into her mouth as far as she could without gagging, and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock. Pumping her hand, she ran her tongue around his shaft, hollowing her cheeks on every withdraw. Spikes groaned beneath her as she increased her pace, reaching down to cup and massage his balls.  
  
He was so close.  
  
Kneading her breast lightly, Spike felt her near release. Pressing a tender kiss to the inside of her thigh, he pinched her nipple, sucked her clit into his mouth and thrust two fingers into her core, curving them against her most sensitive spot. Buffy cried out in orgasm her hand continuing to pump his cock erratically. Buffy’s head fell forward against his thigh, and she fought to control her breathing before taking him into her mouth again, even as a second a third wave of pleasure rode through her.  
  
Spike felt his balls tighten almost as soon as she took him back into her mouth, and as her hand reached down to cup his balls again and her teeth ground lightly against the head, he choked out in warning.  
  
“Buffy... I’m gonna...”  
  
Spike came with a shout, erupting into her mouth as his hands gripped her hips tightly, almost painfully. Buffy kept pumping, swallowing as his come shot into her mouth. She had never done it before and, after giving the head of his cock a long lick, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand demurely, suddenly looking shy.  
  
Spike took one look at the blushing beauty on top of him as she turned to glance at him before grabbing her arm, spinning her around and pulling her down on top of him, kissing her fully.  
  
Buffy always expected it to be a turnoff, being able to taste herself on a man’s mouth, but the way Spike was kissing her made her feel warm, happy... loved? Tasting herself on his lips only showed how much he’d enjoyed tasting her, and knowing he could taste himself on her mouth too, it deepened the already heady experience.  
  
Breaking the kiss to plant a soft peck on his jaw, Buffy snuggled up against him, throwing an arm over his stomach and crooking her leg over his thighs. She smiled as his arm wove around her waist, and sighed happily. “Aren’t you glad we didn’t go to the bar?”  
  
Spike chuckled in response, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of vanilla and peach from her hair. This was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. They hadn’t even had sex and he was... That was the best not-sex ever, he decided with a grin. She kissed him again, and Spike felt like his whole body was tingling. She slid her tongue into his mouth, and he swore, his toes were dancing, his mind was exploding, and his cock was already hardening again. Pulling away, he pressed another light kiss to her mouth before smiling at her.  
  
“So, how’d we like second base, love?”


	6. Waking Up

Spike woke to an empty bed. His arm trailed to the other side of the bed, searching out the body that had fallen asleep at his side. Coming up empty, he opened his eyes to find Buffy trying to tie back her hair, shrug on her cardigan and open the door at the same time.  
  
“Pet?” He propped himself up on his elbows, rubbing his eyes. The alarm clock read seven thirty.  
  
Buffy looked up, a sheepish expression on her face. “Hey.”  
  
“You’re leaving?”  
  
“I got to get ready for the wedding.” Buffy replied, staring at the man lying in bed. I just had amazing not-sex with that man, she thought, and blushed. She had done things she hadn’t been comfortable doing with Liam with a man she’d only just met. Oh, God. She didn’t even know his last name!  
  
Spike sat up, the blush spreading across Buffy’s cheeks was adorable. Standing, he stood naked and in unabashed ease. The blush deepened. Deciding to throw her a bone, he quickly located and pulled on his jeans. “You need three and a half hours to get ready, pet?”  
  
Buffy gave him a small, self-mocking half-smile. “Anya’s got me doing full maid-of-honour-duty. I have to help her get ready, then help the others get dressed, then get ready myself. Besides, I really need a shower before I head over there, because I totally smell like... well, not sex, but sexy sweatiness.”  
  
Spike’s eyes flickered pointedly to his own adjoining bathroom. “You could always...”  
  
Buffy held up a hand, a grin on her lips. “No cleanliness would happen that way, mister. Besides, turning up in the same outfit Willow helped me pick out? It doesn’t exactly scream ‘I-didn’t-do-anything-stupid-last-night’.” Spike’s face crumbled at the last phrase and she took a step towards him. “Not that I think what we did last night was stupid. It... It’s just, they might think it might be. And they shouldn’t have to deal with that today.”  
  
She paused, meeting his eyes. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”  
  
Spike closed the distance between them slowly, his head lowered and looking up at her from under his brows. “So... you weren’t running out on me?”  
  
Buffy smiled, “Nope. I wrote you a note and everything.” She held up a piece of folded paper. “I was going to leave it on the coffee table.”  
  
“And you don’t regret anything?” Spike tried to hide his anxiety. They were standing barely a foot apart.  
  
“Nope. Completely regret-free.”  
  
“I’m glad.” Spike muttered, leaning down and kissing her.  
  
Me too, Buffy thought as his tongue lazily entered her mouth, their kiss long and languid. She cupped his cheek gently with her hand as his hands touched her waist for a moment before sliding to hold her backside. She pulled away with a giggle. “Down, boy. I gotta go, remember?”  
  
“Fine,” Spike pouted, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  
  
Buffy reached up to run her fingers through his hair. “Your hair is all sexy when it’s ruffled. You’ve got curls.” Spike grimaced. “No, really, you should wear sex-hair more often.”  
  
“You volunteering to be my stylist, pet?” Spike grinned at her, his tongue tucked up, against his teeth.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes before leaning up to brush her lips against his cheek before giving him warm smile and turning to leave. “I’ll see you at the wedding, Spike.”  
  
“I’ll be waiting at the end of the aisle, love.”

* * * * * * *

“So, what do you think?”  
  
Buffy glanced at Willow and Tara, whose faces reflected her opinion. Choosing her words carefully she looked back up at the bride-to-shortly-be. “Well, it was definitely... unique. But I don’t think it’s really the kind of speech you should make at a wedding, in front of family and friends.”  
  
“Maybe just cut down on the ‘sex poodle’ references,” Tara suggested with a slight blush.  
  
“Or maybe just lose the sex references all together,” Willow added. “Keep it PG-13.”  
  
“Why should I when the best man and the maid of honour are going at it all night?”  
  
“Anya!” Buffy yelped, her face reddening. “Who told you that?!”  
  
“Willow told Xander,” Anya stated, and Willow shrugged sheepishly. “They’ve been planning this for weeks.”  
  
“So it’s true then?” Willow pressed hopefully.  
  
Buffy’s blush deepened, “No, not... technically.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Anya opened her mouth to make a suggestion of what they had done, but Buffy cut her off.  
  
“We, well there was no sex. But it got... sexy there for a while.” Buffy admitted. “I really like him, you guys. You did good, Will.”  
  
The red-head grinned.  
  
“So, does that mean his tongue is as talented as it looks?” Anya asked idly.  
  
“Anya!” Buffy gasped as the other two fell into a fit of giggles. “...Maybe.” Willow and Tara’s giggles doubled.  
  
“Does this mean you’ll be seeing him again?”  
  
“Well yeah, he’s going to be at the wedding,” Buffy teased, and Anya rolled her eyes.  
  
“She means, are you going to be engaging in sexual and coital relations with the man again.”  
  
Buffy laughed, before admitting, “I don’t know. I hope so.”

* * * * * * *

Spike was still staring at the door when his phone rang. Snapped out his revelry, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, checking the Caller ID before holding it up to his ear. “Whelp! You’re up early.”  
  
“Yeah, well, Anya insisted on staying in the same room last night,” Xander answered with a yawn. “And she woke me up this morning trying to sneak out so I wouldn’t see the bride before the wedding.”  
  
“You shagged, didn’t you?” Spike asked with a smirk.  
  
“Oh, yeah,” Spike could almost see the cocky grin on Xander’s face that he could hear in his voice.  
  
Spike shook his head, glancing once more at the door before heading to the wardrobe. Eyeing the protective suit bag with distaste, he threw it down on the bed. “So, why are you callin’, droopy boy? You nervous?”  
  
“I’m shocked and wounded!” Xander declared, making Spike chuckle. “Actually, I was calling to see how it went last night with the Buffster.”  
  
“How the bloody hell did you know she was here?”  
  
“Willow told me you were going to—“ Xander coughed. “She went to your room?!”  
  
Bollocks.  
  
“Did you...?”  
  
“None of your bloody business, whelp.” Spike laughed, checking his pockets for his cigarettes. Frowning, he instead pulled out a folded piece of paper. A smile touching his lips, he unfolded it. “Little minx...”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Spike muttered, eyes skimming over the note, “Look, I’ll see you at the wedding, Xander. And do us a favour: If you’re having trouble with your cummerbund, ask Willow to help you out.” He hung up mid-complaint from Xander.  
  
Reading the note for a third time, Spike couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face. She must have slipped it into his pocket when he’d kissed her. She was something else. Opening his phone again, he dialled another number.  
  
“Oz? Hey, man, its Spike... Yeah, I need a favour. Meet me downstairs in ten?”


	7. At the End of the Aisle/A Gift From the Heart

“You may kiss the bride.”  
  
Cheers exploded around them as Anya and Xander embraced enthusiastically, Anya throwing her arms around her new husband’s neck. Spike couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he watched his best friend kiss his bride, and the line of bridesmaids cheer and whistle.  
  
Willow and Tara were hugging each other, and the blonde had tears running freely down her face. Hallie, an old work friend of Anya’s, was clapping and squealing, bouncing in place. It was a far cry from the Texan’s usual snobbish self. And Buffy... Buffy was radiant.  
  
Even in the bright green dress Anya had her wearing.  
  
She was glowing, a brilliant smile lighting up her face as the newlyweds kissed, tears shining in her eyes. Spike was awestruck. She was incredible. When she turned to smile at him, a tear fell free from her eyes and Spike grinned at her.  
  
He winked at her and she giggled. Raising his hands above his head, he whooped loudly, clapping. The bridesmaids laughed at him and he wiggled his brows. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he continued to whoop and holler until the bride and groom broke apart to stare at him, halfway between glaring and laughing.  
  
He watched as Xander led Anya down the aisle, a goofy grin firmly in place as they waved to family and friends. Clem stood up from his seat in the front row and linked arms with Hallie, following the newlyweds to the cars waiting outside. Willow and Tara followed them, and Spike stepped forward to lead Buffy. Giving her a small, awkward smile, he offered her his arm and she took it readily, stepping in close as he led her outside. Her free hand rested on his arm too, and she smiled up at him.  
  
“You look gorgeous, pet.” Spike leant down to talk in her ear and Buffy giggled.  
  
“I’m radioactive, Spike.”  
  
He chuckled. “You’d look beautiful even if you had two heads and a tail. You’re bloody perfect.”  
  
Buffy blushed as he helped her into the car waiting for her. The bride and groom were taking one limo to the reception at a function centre across town, while the bridal party were going in the other. Spike reached up to shut the door behind her and she stopped him. “Wait, you’re not riding with us?”  
  
Spike smiled. “No, pet, I brought my own car. I’ve got my guitar and the lot in the back. I’ll meet you there.” He glanced at the grinning bridesmaids in the car before pressing a kiss to her cheek.  
  
“Okay, I’ll see you there.”

  
  


* * * * * * *

  
  


Spike was setting up his equipment when Buffy arrived, too distracted by his amps to notice her arrival. Buffy took the moment to admire him, the way his muscles bunched and stretched, obvious even under the tux. He had worn his doc martins to the wedding, much to Anya’s horror, and he’d since removed the bow tie and undone a few of the buttons at the top of his shirt. He’d obviously run his fingers through his hair a few times since she’d seen him last, because his hair was no longer slicked back, the natural curl of his hair showing through.  
  
In short, he looked unbelievably sexy.  
  
Distracted by Willow, she tore her eyes away from Spike’s backside long enough to applaud at the entrance of Anya and Xander, giving them both a congratulatory hug and kiss on the cheek before following them to the bridal table for their meals.  
  
The food disappeared with surprising speed, with the microphone passed around for anecdotes in honour of the couple. Spike had pointedly refused to make a best man’s speech, saying performing was ‘bloody well enough for them’, and a few people were now milling around the bar and dance floor, some swaying to the quiet beats of the DJ’s music.  
  
Spike had sent a few winks and smirks her way down the table during the meal, and Buffy had blushed each time he did, drawing the attention of Willow and a few of the others. Willow had whispered something to Tara, who had grinned widely, but Buffy ignored them. She was in a world of her own.  
  
And she liked it there.  
  
After a few more tediously made speeches, Xander had stood and, kissing his wife’s cheek, headed for the stage and picking up the microphone.  
  
“Okay, guys, I’m not going to stand up here and talk, because hell, it’s my wedding and I shouldn’t have to make the effort past saying ‘I do’ at the right time.” Anya shot him a disapproving look as the guests laughed. “But I think it’s about damn time Spike gives me my wedding gift!”  
  
Spike rolled his eyes and headed up to the stage, taking the mic from his best friend. Muttering among laughter about Xander being a bloody git, he picked up his guitar and pulled the strap over his head.  
  
“Okay everyone, I know I promised to perform some god awful bloody love song that Xander picked out, but bear with me. That horror can come later. Right now, I’ve got a song I’ve gotta perform. If I could get Oz and Devon up here, that would be great.”  
  
Everybody applauded again as the other men joined him, Oz picking up a bass guitar and Devon settling down behind the drums.  
  
“You’ll need to bear with us, because I finished writing the song this morning, and the guys have had all of a few hours to remember their parts. Luckily, I’m a crap musician, so their parts weren’t hard.” Laughs again, and Spike ducked his head. “This is a song I wrote for someone very special. I... I hope they like it.”  
  
He nodded to the others, took a deep breath, and began.  
  
_We met._  
 _We smiled._  
 _I put my arm around you._  
 _The camera flashed,_  
 _And it was over._  
  
Buffy’s eyes grew huge as Spike sang. His voice was amazing. Honey sweet and smooth, the man was making every girl in the room swoon without even looking at them. He was leaning up to the microphone, his lips only an inch away, and his eyes were burning blue fire.  
  
_My face was flushed,_  
 _You turned, and walked away._  
 _But in, my pocket was your number._  
 _And I’m thinkin’..._

And then Buffy’s eyes grew wider. He was singing about her!

Spike’s lips turned up in a one sided smile as he sang, and his eyes met hers, smouldering. Buffy could feel her face burning, feel the excited tugging on her dress that Willow was doing. She knew Xander would be grinning widely at her, eyes sparkling, that Anya would be sulking that the song wasn’t about her on her special day, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the man in front of her.

_Who’s that girl with the smile,_   
_That hides at the same time?_   
_I really think she’s got issues._   
_The way she looks at me,_   
_I can tell what this brings._   
_And if I taste her pain,_   
_Is that a crime?_

Spike’s smile widened as he sang the chorus and she giggled, dimly noticing the people congregating on the dance floor, Xander and Anya included. Clem and Hallie were showing off swing moves and even the pregnant Fred was dancing, but Buffy was frozen to her seat.

_That night,_   
_We’re upstairs in my room,_   
_I’m trying to ply you, with champagne and caviar._   
_But you,_   
_Just wrinkle up your face,_   
_Won’t get off second base,_   
_I’m tripping on how strong you are._

Buffy blushed crimson when his lyrics turned to a more adult rating, ducking her head when Xander turned to look at her gobsmacked and laughed, before smiling, embarrassed, at Spike when he winked at her from the stage. She laughed. Something told her that if it had been anyone else had done that, she would have been furious, but Spike... he was different. He made her proud of what they’d done through his lyrics, not ashamed or angry.

_Whoa, my toes start dancing,_   
_When you kiss me._   
_You pull me down, and I like it._   
_My head explodes and I know something’s hit me._   
_You make me, want to,_   
_Be Bad._   
_Yeah._

Spike went into a bridge then, grinning at Buffy as he said the last lines before smirking at a few people on the dance floor who shouted their approval of his song. Buffy admired him as he moved into the bridge, the way he handled the guitar, the way his fingers danced along the frets. Xander hadn’t been lying about him being modest about his ability. He was amazing.

_I am a monkey behind glass,_   
_Turn on the lights have a laugh._   
_Get up you filthy thing and dance._

Buffy laughed openly at that, Spike smirked and waved her forward. Willow and Tara immediately pulled her out of her chair and pushed her towards the stage. Spike reached down and pulled her up, spinning her once as he sang. Buffy laughed but continued to dance, earning herself a few catcalls and cheers of her own, mostly from a laughing Xander and Willow.

_And you would come across the sea,_   
_Give me kisses that would speak,_   
_Of your seven lonely oceans..._

_Who are you to smile and hide at the same time?_   
_I really like your issues._   
_The way you look at me,_   
_I can tell what a kiss brings._   
_You make me, want to,_   
_Be Bad..._   
_Yeah_

Spike finished the song with a flourish, lifted his guitar off of him, threw it to Oz and pulled Buffy into a passionate embrace. She smiled into the kiss, letting her tongue slide over his as cheers exploded around them. Pulling away with a blush, Buffy grinned up at him happily.

“I think we’re stealing the newlywed’s thunder.”

“Like I give a bloody damn,” Spike replied, kissing her again.

“Yeah, but Anya might.” Buffy giggled as Spike’s face sobered and kissed his cheek before leaving the stage. “Coming find me after you finish your set... I think I owe you a dance for that.”

Spike grinned at her, caught her hand and kissed it once before letting her go and returning to the mic to sing some ‘bloody awful love songs’.


	8. Cutting In

Buffy was dancing with Clem when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, she grinned as Spike smirked down at her, holding out his hand. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Why, Spike, I never you felt that way.” Buffy held her hand against her chest melodramatically. “I’ll leave you two alone.” She went to walk away, and the blonde caught her arm. She turned back to him, smiling teasingly.

“You get your bloody ass over here, woman.” Spike growled, and Buffy giggled. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her up against his body. Buffy’s arms went around his neck, and she swayed against him, laying her head against his chest. She sighed happily.

“Having fun, pet?” He felt her nod against his chest. “You changed your dress.”

She was wearing a moss green chiffon dress, with thick straps and a simple bodice. The skirt flowed freely from the waist to hang just above her knees. The colour made her eyes shine, and she wore simple back peep toe heels. Her hair had been released from the bun she’d had for the ceremony, and hung in loose curls around her shoulders. She looked incredible.

Buffy grinned. “Hallie’s doing. Willow and the others... and well, me... were complaining about Anya’s choice in dresses and Hallie pointed out that we couldn’t exactly dance in the, uh... gowns... Anya had picked. She’d found the idea of no dancing at the reception horrifying, but loved those dresses too much. So she decided that we should wear different dresses here. We even got to choose the colour, even if they were all in the same cut.”

Spike glanced around, and noticed the others were all wearing a dress in the same style, Willow in black, Tara in a light orange and Hallie of course, in bright pink. Staring back down at the girl in his arms, he kissed her softly. “You made a good choice, love. Colour looks great on you.”

“Thanks,” Buffy took the opportunity to spin away from him, holding his hand, before spinning back in to his arms, purposefully showing off all angles of the dress. “Glad you like it.”

“I definitely like it.” Spike growled again, his hands sliding down to cup her backside and pressing her harder against him.

Buffy blushed at the more intimate embrace, ducking her head. No one really made her feel so exposed yet so safe like he did. It was an interesting and addictive feeling. Turning the conversation to less conflicting topics, she asked: “So, if your band is in England, how come you were able to perform with Oz and Devon? I thought they were in Dingoes?”

“They are. I used to fill in for their lead in practise back when he was... a little less professional and taking the rock ‘n roll lifestyle too seriously. Drinking, partying, sleeping all day, the works. They owed me a favour, and I called it in.” Spike shrugged.

“Oh.”

“But you liked it?” Spike looked down at her, his expression worried.

Buffy said nothing. Instead, she kissed him. After a few moments she pulled away, her brow furrowed, “Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?”

“What’s your last name?”

Spike chuckled, kissing her forehead. “It’s Pratt, love. William Pratt.”

Buffy smiled, testing his name in her mouth. “William Pratt. I like it. Pleased to meet you, Mr Pratt.”

“And you as well, Miss Summers.”

And he kissed her again.

 

* * * * * * *

 

_One Year Later..._

“I don’t know, Willow. I mean, we’ve talked a lot... on the phone and online. But I just... I haven’t seen him since the wedding.” Buffy spoke into the phone tucked into the crook of her neck; sorting through the handful of clothes and coat-hangers she was holding. She’d been trying to pick an outfit for the last hour and a half, without success. Willow had called to see how she was doing, and she’d spent the last forty-five minutes venting.

_“But like you said, you’ve talked. It won’t be too weird, will it?”_

“It might be,” Buffy held up a black and white polka-dot dress to her body and grimaced, throwing it over her shoulder. “What if he’s not interested anymore? What if he’s involved with someone else? What if becoming a big star has made him forget me?”

 _“Buffy, you just said you talk to him all the time. How could he forget you? Besides, he’s not that kind of guy. I’ve known him for years.”_ Willow pointed out.

“I know that, Wills. I just... I’m nervous, alright? I haven’t felt like this about a guy since... well, ever.” Buffy admitted.

 _“Really? What about... what about Liam?”_ Willow asked carefully, recalling how devastated Buffy had been when he’d left her.

Buffy threw a skirt onto the ever-growing pile of rejected clothes, followed by a few shirts. “Really. I think I... I really like him.” The girl on the other end of the line started to speak again, but Buffy cut her off. “I gotta go, Wills, I finally found an outfit and the cab will be here to pick me up in half an hour. I’m nowhere near ready yet.”

Willow gave a cheery goodbye and promised to see her soon before hanging up. Buffy threw the phone down onto the bed before shrugging off her bathrobe. She was showered and her hair was dried, all she needed was the outfit and the makeup.

 

* * * * * * *

 

A car horn honked outside, and Buffy quickly turned to check her reflection one last time in the mirror. She was wearing a strapless green dress in a material that clung dangerously to her every curve and sat high on her thighs. Black kitten heels graced her feet and a simple gold crucifix on a fine chain that left it hanging just past her breasts hung from her neck. Her hair was out, tumbling over her shoulders in waves and loose curls, and her makeup was all smoky eyes and dusky lips.

The car honked again and Buffy frowned indecisively. Something was missing. Turning to the bed, she smiled, grabbed a cropped leather jacket and threw it on. It hung just below her shoulder blades, and was embellished with heavy studded buttons and a chain on one of the pockets.

Perfect.

Grabbing her purse, she ran down the stairs and out the door to the waiting car outside.


	9. At the Bronze

“Oh my God, Buffy! You look so hot!” Willow exclaimed as Buffy approached their table, jumping up to fan the girl with her hands, with Tara following suit, laughing. Buffy giggled, and the Harris couple turned to greet her as she did.

“You can say that again,” Xander coughed, choking on a peanut at Anya slapped him lightly over the back of the head. The couple were three days from their first wedding anniversary, and Buffy had never seen them more in love with each other than they were now, even with the playful, teasing banter and the occasional ass-kicking that Anya gave her husband.

Anya was finally comfortable enough in their relationship to let Xander joke and compliment the other girls without constantly warning them, particularly the single Buffy, that they ‘can’t have Xander’. And Xander, he was now confident enough to be the solid rock in the marriage, having been able to start up his own carpentry and construction business. They were truly happy.

Buffy laughed and turned once, showcasing the outfit for her friends. She smiled happily as she took her seat between Anya and Tara. “Thanks, Xand.”

They were sitting at the usual table in the Bronze, close enough to the bar but at the edge of the dance floor so they had an optimum view of the stage. Anya had permanently reserved the table for them when she had bought the club six months ago. Business was booming, but Xander had insisted she take the night off tonight. Buffy knew that she was itching to stand up and take control of her bustling nightclub, but she had promised not to work in honour of Spike’s return to Sunnydale.

A lot of things had happened over the last year.

Willow and Tara had both graduated from UC Sunnydale, with Willow now working as a child psychologist and Tara as an art Teacher at the local High School. Tara had even managed to sell some of her own artwork to collectors and galleries in the area, and the two of them had bought themselves a quaint two bedroom apartment near to both Buffy and the Harris’ and were now working their way through their first adoption. Buffy had inherited her mother’s house on Revello Drive after she passed away, and was living there while completing her course at college to become a Guidance Councillor for teenagers while teaching jujitsu downtown. And Spike... Spike was a superstar.

A month after the wedding, Spike had emailed her and told her that his band had finally managed to score themselves a record deal, and since then they had produced two albums and been on tour around Britain and the world. Buffy and Spike had spoken relatively frequently, emailing each other almost every week, her with the monotony of her everyday life and her classes, him with the news of different countries and fan experiences.

They sometimes exchanged photos, she sent him photos of Tara and Willow’s graduation, of the gang at the Bronze and around the home on holidays and weekends, while he sent her pictures of the crowds at gigs and photos of the band, hanging out in hotel rooms, backstage in clubs and at signings. They talked on the phone too, but less often, finding it difficult with time differences and usually it was only a brief call, one of them always called away by the rest of their lives.

He always ended his messages with ‘I miss you’, and she always did the same. And now she was going to see him again.

It was always kind of surreal, seeing posters of the group on the walls of clubs and record stores, with Spike standing in the forefront, cocky smirk in place and a knowing glint in his eyes. All swagger in his usual black leather duster, dark denim and doc martins. She would turn on the radio and hear his voice crooning or shouting lyrics, singing about love and loneliness, about sex and loss.

The first album, _Second Soul_ , had skyrocketed _Undead America_ to worldwide popularity, and the tour celebrating their second album _Fools For Love_ , had just officially ended in Los Angeles. When Anya had announced that _Undead America_ ’s manager Lorne Green had requested she let the band do a one-night showcase at the Bronze for the citizens of Sunnydale only, the whole town had rushed to get one of the limited tickets to the show.

Anya had immediately put aside a ticket each for all of them, and Spike had emailed Buffy a few days before to make sure that all of them were going to stick around after the end of the show so they could catch up once the Bronze closed. She’d done that, and now she waited anxiously for the show to start. She had no idea what they had between them anymore, but she hoped he felt the same way she did.

Because she felt that she could be in love with him.

 

* * * * * *

 

Spike was backstage, surrounded by band mates, equipment, a few roadies and a flustered manager. Lorne, a musician who had had his own stint in musical theatre and was still a massive hit in most Jazz circles, had been their manager since the band had signed, and had worked wonders. They’d gone from a small group touring pubs around London to worldwide fame. Spike still wasn’t used to it, it was mind blowing.

When the old bassist dropped out due to a problem with alcohol addiction, Oz had joined, the Dingoes having split a few months after the wedding due to creative differences. He was sitting in the corner now, tuning his bass, brow furrowed. Spike ran his hand through his hair anxiously. He hadn’t been this nervous since their first big show.

Buffy was in the audience.

He checked himself again in the cracked mirror hanging on the wall. He never really cared about his appearance during shows before, he knew he’d still have girls screaming his name when he walked onto the stage. But Buffy wasn’t one of those girls. She was different... special.

He knew the others were guessing this gig was special to him. He’d been the one who’d convinced Lorne to set up the concert, and they knew he had connections in Sunny-D. They also knew that Spike was constantly emailing a girl, checking his account daily to see if she had replied, sometimes twice a day. And every time she hadn’t, they’d see his hopeful expression crumble into one of disappointment. They knew that he’d made a special request of them just for tonight, saying ‘someone important was going to be there’, but wouldn’t explain to them what the hell he was on about or who the person was. So they had guessed it was this mystery girl. All except Oz didn’t know her name, and Oz wasn’t one to share something that wasn’t his to share.

But they were absolutely certain that Spike Pratt was head over heels for her.


	10. Concert

“So, are you nervous Buffy?” Anya stirred her drink with her straw idly, waving at a waitress for a plate of nachos.

“Nervous? About what?” Buffy tried to appear nonchalant, fiddling with the charm bracelet around her wrist. It was one her mother had given her for her eighteenth birthday, along with a simple B pendant.

In the four years since then, she’d collected a few others; her sister Dawn, who was now living in L.A. in her first year studying law, had sent her an Eiffel Tower when she’d gone on a school trip to Paris; Xander and Anya had given a delicate crucifix last Christmas, Willow had given her a rose quartz pendant to promote healing after she’d broken her ankle, and Tara had given her a small pentagram, telling her that the way it hung, with a single point upwards, would protect her from ill will and evil spirits.

She was now touching a small golden heart, running her fingers over its curves. Turning it over, she traced the W engraved into its surface. Spike had sent it to her for her birthday, a month after the wedding. Buffy hadn’t dated since she’d met Spike, and could only hope he wasn’t dating either. Oh, God, what if he was?

“What have I got to be nervous about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Anya eye rolled. “Maybe the fact that a man you haven’t seen since my wedding, a man you had hot, sweaty sex with and wrote you a freaking love song is going to be here, tonight. And it’s the first time you’ve seen him since said wedding and sweaty sex?”

“I... It wasn’t sex. It was... second base,” Buffy blushed, “And... I’m not nervous... I’m just...”

“Buffy!” Buffy jumped in her seat, before relaxing when she realised Riley Finn, a guy from her psych class, was waving to her.

“Jumpy?” Xander suggested, helping himself to the nachos that were being set down on the table.

“Just please tell me that Anya isn’t going to be making the introduction for the band tonight.” Buffy grumbled, sticking her tongue out at the girl in question when she frowned. “I don’t really feel like having my bedroom activities advertised to the entire Bronze.”

“Nah, Anya is letting Clem do that tonight,” Xander reassured her through a mouthful. “She promised no work.” He stood, kissing his wife’s cheek. “I’m going to grab drinks, refills?” The others nodded.

“Speaking of introductions,” Tara said, pointing at the stage. Clem was stepping up to the mike, “Looks like they’re about to be made.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

“You ready, Slim?” Spike looked up as Lorne sidled up to stand in front of him, leaving the rest of the band to their own devices in the last few moments before the first set began. He was wearing a bright, lime green suit and a silk tie in a starling red that both clashed with and worked brilliantly with the suit.

“As I’ll ever be,” Spike muttered, taking a deep breath. Clem had just walked past, giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder before heading out onto the stage to announce the band. Running a hand through his hair again, he looked at the floor, trying to calm himself.

“Not like you to be nervous before a gig, cupcake,” Lorne pointed out, sitting down on the couch next to him. “Is _el mystery chica_ here?”

“What?”

“The girl you’re always sending love notes too. The one Oz refuses to tell me about, but you’ve been in contact with since I’ve known you. I figured that was why it was you and not Oz that asked for Sunnydale for your little one-on-one with the screaming masses, and like I said, it’s not like you to be nervous, lemon drop.”

“You’re not just a pretty face, Lorne.” Spike chuckled, and the other man laughed heartily.

“So is she here?”

Spike shrugged, “I don’t know.” He admitted, “I haven’t... I haven’t actually looked out there yet.”

“You _are_ nervous.” Lorne asserted, “You’re crazy about her, aren’t you?”

“You noticed, huh?” Spike chuckled weakly.

“Even I wasn’t as insightful and talented as I am, not to mention delicious and—“

“Sugar-free?”

Lorne laughed again, sobering up as Spike sighed, ruffling his hair again. “So do I get to know the name of this mystery girl?”

Cheers erupted from the other room, and Spike stood, shaking off anxiously. “Sorry, mate. Looks like you’ll have to wait ‘til the end of the show like the others.”

“She’s a lucky girl, Spikester.” Lorne called after him as he made his way onto the stage. “I hope she knows it.”

 

* * * * * * *

 

The roar of the crowd packed into the Bronze was deafening as _Undead America_ took the stage, Oz slipping the strap of his bass over his head, a red head taking her place behind the keyboard and a bald black man sitting behind the drums. Spike picked up the electric guitar at the front of the stage, smirking and winking at someone in the crowd as he slipped on the strap of his guitar and stepped up to the mic.

His eyes searched the crowd for a long moment as the screams died down, his eyes catching Xander as he carried a tray of drinks away from the bar. Spike followed his friend with his eyes, smiling slightly as he sat down at a table in the middle of the floor, handing out drinks. Anya was to his left, brunette again instead of the blonde she had been at the wedding, and Willow to his left, her hair short like it had been when he’d first met her. Tara sat next to her girlfriend, long hair tied up in a knot and looking surprisingly elegant and comfortable in a corset top and a long skirt. When Spike’s eyes found the girl sitting between Anya and Tara, his breathing hitched.

Buffy was sitting there, staring up at him with wide, shining eyes. She was brilliant, in an outfit to die for and her hair fell over her shoulders enticingly. After so long away from her, he was drowning. He was falling into those eyes, wishing desperately to be covered in her scent, to be holding her in his arms, to be kissing her... loving her physically.

He smiled softly down at her from the stage, and she continued to stare back, the slightest part to her lips. God, those lips.

Spike started as he felt the neck of Oz’s bass brush pointedly against his back and he cleared his throat, stepping up to the mic, wrapping a hand around it, throwing forth the visage of pure rock god.

“Hell-o SunnyD!” Spike yelled, rewarded with renewed screams and cheering. He kept his eyes pointedly away from his friends, focusing instead on the performance at hand. It would do no bloody good to bollocks up the act in front of her. “Now I could start this show with me acting like a git yelling ‘Are you ready to rock’, but I think Clem already did that, the ponce.”

The crowd laughed below him, and Spike shook his head derisively. Clem gave him the finger and a grin.

“So instead, we’ll start this off with a song written for someone very special. I just hope it still means something to them.”

_We met._   
_We smiled._   
_I put my arm around you._   
_The camera flashed,_   
_And it was over..._

Buffy’s jaw fell open as the others grinned, Xander and Anya moving to the dance floor. Willow and Tara tried to drag her up with them, but Buffy could only stare at the man on stage.


	11. Together

The show wrapped up around eleven-thirty, the band performing their first hit, Blocking Brainwaves, as the second encore. It took at least another hour for the Bronze staff and Anya to force the still-screaming fans out of the door, and Buffy remained glued to her seat, eyes on the hands in her lap, waiting for the band to approach her friends. For Spike to find her.

Did him singing Bad mean that he still felt the same way? Or was it his way of saying goodbye?

She shifted uncomfortably, her fingers travelling subconsciously to the heart on her bracelet again. _What if he’s moved on?_

“Oh my God! Oz!” Willow’s voice cut through Buffy’s thoughts, and she raised her head in time to see the red head hug the short man heading towards them. The two had dated back in high school and freshman year of college, until a complication involving a girl named Veruca. Willow had of course, since rediscovered her sexuality, and the two had, after a period of estrangement, become close friends.

The man returned her hug, one armed, his other hand clutching a beer. He smiled over his shoulder at the rest of the gang as she released him. “Hi, guys.”

Buffy opened her mouth to echo the chorus of greetings the others offered their old friend, snapping it shut as the rest of the band reached them.

“Hello, Buffy.”

Spike stood before her, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets. He was wearing the trademark black jeans, biker boots and tight black t-shirt, along with a red silk shirt unbuttoned over the top. His hair was slicked back, the slightest hint of curl showing at the front.

She was still sitting at the table, and he stood about four feet away, his head ducked. He looked up at her from beneath those lashes and she was forcing herself not to melt into a puddle under the table. His eyes were brighter than she remembered, lighter than his posters gave him credit. Those bright cerulean eyes gazed up at her, and his teeth bit lightly at his lip.

He was so beautiful.

“Hi, Spike.” Willow, Xander and Tara all grinned, as Buffy offered him a smile shyly, and he returned it with a grin they didn’t see often, even when Spike had actually lived in Sunnydale. It wasn’t one of his patented shit-eating grins or an all knowing smirk, it was a full, happy smile, one that shone in his eyes and graced his mouth fully. Buffy blushed and her smile widened as her eyes fell to her lap.

“Spike, man, you gonna introduce us, or you gonna turn us into wallflowers for the night?” The two other members of the band stepped up behind him, the man clapping him on the shoulder.

Spike started, before smiling sheepishly as Lorne made his way over too, sea breeze in hand. “My, my, my, Anya honey, your bartender mixes the best sea breeze from here to Neptune’s Nest.” He smiled at the all, before winking conspiratorially at the brunette. “And I do mean the myth, not that lovely little casino back home.”

“Anya, you’ve obviously already met Lorne.” Spike rolled his eyes despite the good-natured smirk on his face, tearing his eyes away from Buffy. “Guys this is Lorne, our manager, Gunn and Vi.” He motioned to the other band members. Gunn waved at them jovially, grabbing a handful of peanuts from the table, and Vi waved shyly. “Lorne, guys, this is Anya the owner of the club, her husband Xander, Willow and her partner Tara and... and Buffy.”

The falter was barely noticeable; still, it was enough to make Lorne break into a Cheshire grin. “Well howdy-doo all, aren’t you just the cutest bunch I’ve ever seen. You particularly honey,” Lorne winked at a startled Buffy, “Are the sweetest little doll I have ever seen.”

“Uh...”

“So, where’s your lucky guy, huh? Is there a strapping six-footer that would look oh-so-delicious and devilishly attractive in a pair of tight jeans hiding somewhere?” Lorne asked, noticing a scowl forming on Spike’s face. Oh yes, this was definitely the one. “Sugar, a guy shouldn’t leave you unattended for so long, someone new would snatch you up in a heartbeat.”

Buffy nervously tucked hair behind her ear, taken aback. Glancing at Spike, she swallowed her nerves. He looked like he was going to either punch Lorne or run from the club. If that didn’t tell her he still felt something, then... well, she was about to throw herself on a sword and make a complete fool of herself.

She stood, throwing Lorne and the other band members a saucy grin and a wink, Buffy-swagger at full force. “Well, you’re right about the devilishly handsome part, Lorne. Now if you excuse me, he owes me a dance for embarrassing me again.”

And with that, Buffy closed the distance between them, hooked her arm through Spike’s, and with a shy smile, led him onto the dance floor.

 

* * * * * * *

 

“Devilishly handsome, huh?”

Buffy and Spike were together on the dance floor, moving slowly to the rhythm of Heather Nova’s _It’s Only Love_ , Anya having put on one of Buffy’s favourite playlists after the band’s show. Buffy’s arms were wrapped comfortably around his neck, and his hands were on her waist, his slender fingers splayed out to hold her to him, mischievously close to touching her backside.

She shrugged, “Would I lie to a flamboyantly gay music manager I’ve only just met but seems to be passing an assessment around about me as we speak?”

Spike chuckled, and Buffy shivered at the throaty, almost rumbling sound. God, she’d missed that laugh. “If it makes you feel better, pet, I can tell you right now that everything he’s saying is good.”

“How would you know?”

“Because if he flicks his eyebrows at me one more time they’re gonna fly right off his bloody face.” He smirked down at her, his eyes light, happy.

Buffy giggled, muffling the sound by burying her head in his chest for a moment. She hesitantly pressed a kiss there, and heard Spike stifle a groan. “Good, I’m relieved. How about the rest of the band, do I measure up?”

“By the looks on their faces, Gunn and Vi seem pretty happy, and well, Oz loves you.” Spike shrugged.

“Oh, really? I never knew he felt that way!” Buffy proclaimed, grinning. “Maybe we shouldn’t be dancing, I don’t want to cause any friction in the—Spike!”

She’d pulled away teasingly, and he’d immediately wrapped his arm around her waist and spun them both around in a complete one eighty, pulling her flush against him. He leaned down, his breath hot and heady against her neck. She stopped laughing almost immediately.

“You really think I’m going to let you go?” He whispered.

Buffy shivered again. “I hope not.”

They danced in silence a few moments longer before Spike took her chin in his hand, softly tilting her face up to his.

“Buffy?"

“Yes, Spike?”

“Marry me?”


	12. An Answer

“What?” Buffy stared, eyes wide at the man holding her in his arms. Had he just asked her to...?

_Are we done for now?_   
_Or is this for good?_   
_Will there be something in time?_   
_With us there should._

“I...God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” Spike immediately back-tracked, letting go of her waist and stepping back. “I didn’t mean it... well, I mean, I meant it, with every part of me, but I shouldn’t have... oh, god, don’t hate me.”

“Spike...”

_Only girl for me is you._   
_There can be no other one._   
_If I didn’t have faith,_   
_I would come undone._

“I can’t stop thinking about you Buffy,” He looked up at her, his eyes wide and pleading. “Ever since I first saw you at the wedding rehearsal, I can’t stop. You’re all I can see, eyes open or shut. You’re surrounding me. Always. Your laugh, your smile, your skin... Everything about you is all I see... What do you think this bloody song is about?!” He gestured wildly at the sound system.

_So much promise in your eyes,_   
_Seems that I can only see,_   
_It always makes me wonder,_   
_If you save it all for me._

The last song had switched to one of Buffy’s absolute favourites, the final track on Second Soul: Goodnight Sweet Girl. She never bought any of his albums, she found it strange enough to hear him singing or talking in an interview on the radio, but she’d fallen in love with the song when she’d heard it at the club. Anya had let her make a playlist for the DJ to play on the nights they didn’t have a band, and it circulated every few weeks. She loved it.

_Maybe you do._   
_Maybe you don’t._   
_Maybe you should._   
_Probably won’t._

“Spike...”

_Because there will be..._

Spike ran a hand through his hair, freeing the curls. Buffy watched him and he ran his hand over his face, dimly aware that the others had heard his voice rising, and were now looking on in shock and confusion. She knew she should try to explain to them that they needed a moment alone, but she could do nothing.

“I never stopped wanting... loving you, Buffy, I haven’t felt like this before, not with Dru, not Cecily... nobody. You drive me mad and it’s like the only cure is to have you forever.” Spike rolled his eyes. “God, I sound so bloody idiotic. Just... look.”

_There will be other guys,_   
_Who will whisper in your ear,_   
_Say they will take away your sadness,_   
_And your fears_

_They may be kind and true,_   
_They may be good to you._   
_But they’ll never care for you_   
_More than I do._

Spike shoved his wallet into her hands, and Buffy opened it slowly, unsure. Inside, in the little sleeve for ID was a photo of them together, his arm around her shoulders. They both looked shy and awkward, but at the same time, happy. Almost comfortable. It was the photo Anya insisted on taking when they’d first met. The same photo Buffy had framed and by her bed, among the photos of her family and the gang.

He _’d not only asked for a print, but he’d kept it with him... always._

_I’ll always be there_   
_There to the end._   
_I can’t do much,_   
_But be your one true friend._

She frowned at the bumped groove she could see underneath the picture, and carefully slipped it out. Tucked underneath it was a folded piece of paper, the fold worn from constant folding and unfolding. It was her handwriting on the inside.

_To the end..._

He’d kept her note.

“Spike—”

_To the end..._   
_Our lives to spend_   
_With each other to till the end_   
_Of time...!_

“It doesn’t bloody matter though does it? Bloody pillock, I haven’t seen you in a bloody year, and I come making bleedin’ wedding proposals? Buffy, I love you. Please don’t send me away, just forget I ever said anything, please. I just—“

“William!” Buffy shouted, and he stopped short, staring at her in shock. No one called him that. Stepping up to him, Buffy smiled softly tucking his wallet into his pocket and taking hold of his hands. “Ask me again.”

“Wh—?” Spike faltered, his eyes travelling from their entwined hands to her face.

“Ask me again.”

_Still see the promise in your eyes,_   
_And still wonder if it’s for me,_   
_But I know it’s still there,_   
_Even when you sleep..._

He swallowed, biting his lip and forced himself to maintain eye contact. His heart pounded in his chest, his ears, his head. Everything yelled out her name.

“Buffy Anne Summers... will you marry me?”

_So I say,_   
_Goodnight,_   
_Sweet Girl..._

Buffy smiled. “Yes, William. I will.” And for the second time in their scattered, year long relationship, they kissed as they were deafened with cheers.

* * * * * * *

_Spike,_

_I’m sorry I have to leave early, but I have to go before a very annoyed Anya comes barging through all the rooms in the hotel looking for me. Thinking we wouldn’t be too popular if we were the reason she wakes everyone up this early._

_And I’m sorry, no one should ever have to wake up to an empty bed, least of all you. I want you to know that last night was one of the most... wait, scratch that. Last night was THE most incredible night of my life. I mean, wow. Willow warned me about what I was getting myself into but I nev.._

_Okay, tangential thoughts. Ignore that._

_Spike, you are the sweetest guy I have met in a long time. You never pushed, and you didn’t just take. You gave. A lot._

_I don’t know what’s going to happen now, but I do know that I like you. And, if anything else, I would love to be your friend._

_Please let me._

_Love, Buffy._


End file.
